“It has been filed,” he announced.
Sybil nodded, but she seemed absent-minded and to have lost interest in the discovery.
“From the first I suspected the guy-wires,” she said. “When the aircraft collapsed I knew the wires had parted, and then—I thought of my clever uncle.”
Mr. Cumberford rolled down his sleeves and put on his coat.
“Three of the wires gave way,” he observed, “and it’s a wonder young Kane wasn’t killed. Come, ’Bil; we’ll go back to the hotel.”
They found the field deserted, their motor car being the last on the grounds. During the ride into town Sybil remarked:
“This affair will cause you serious loss, Daddy.”
“Why?”
“Steve can’t exhibit his device at the meet, and Uncle Burthon will be on hand to win all the laurels.”
“Don’t worry over that,” he said grimly. “We’ve ten days in which to outwit Burthon, and if I can’t manage to do it in that time I deserve to lose my money.”